It was Wednesday. Finally Wednesday. Rillia gazed up from her divan at the shafts of light shimmering through the water above her. Her heart beat a little quicker than usual, because it was Wednesday, and on Wednesday she got to see the warm-eyed man.
Rillia swam from her room out into the open water. She raised her arms above her head, twirling in an upward arch, admiring the way the morning light shone off her shimmering pink markings.
She felt a nudge in her mind. A small, high-pitched voice in the back of her head. Rillia rolled her eyes preemptively as she turned her body around in the water to face Chiara, a much younger angler, wearing her usual feigned smile on her naive unblinking face. Regretfully, Rillia opened the telepathic link.
"Hey, Rillia! Goooooood Morning! Where are you going!"
Rillia looked to the surface in irritation. "I'm headed into the city for some errands, not that it concerns you, Chiara. Does your mom know where you are?"
Chiara's spunk fizzled as her gaze fell to the ocean floor. "I was looking for new seashells for my necklace," she said sheepishly. She perked back up, "Wait, you're going alone, to Madrenice? That's dangerous Rillia! You could get sucked up by a boat, or worse!"
Rillia shot a glance in the direction of the city, this little girl was really good at wasting her time.
"I need to go...I'll be fine as long as you keep your mouth shut about it. Good luck with the necklace." Rillia flicked her fin and shot off towards the city.
"I'll show it to you if you come back alive okay?" Chiara shouted in the distance.
Rillia took a deep breath and tried to enjoy her swim. It wasn't very far to the Eastern edge of Madrenice, the floating city lived in harmony with the ocean, making it extremely accessible for anglers like herself. Her mind soon filled with thoughts of Warm Eyes. What color shirt would he be wearing today?
Matteo groaned in tetchiness as he slipped on his white shirt. At age 27, his body felt three times as old. His time spent in the grimy steel factories of El Gris had left his muscles aching and sore, even to this day. He left that hellish island a year ago today, in search of work that wasn't so intent on killing him.
He was a working professional now, at least compared to his last job. He inspected the cuffs on his shirt before glancing in the dirty mirror of his bathroom, checking his teeth for any loose bits of breakfast.
He blinked and looked up at the ceiling. No new messages. Matteo stared intently at the wall as he navigated through his eyePhone, the small device that sat on top of his left cornea. He had gotten the little piece of technology with his first paycheck from the new job. It was a very strange thing to get used to.
Matteo locked his door to his small rented apartment while reading the mornings headlines that appeared before him.
"EL GRIS FACTORY FIRE KILLS 28."
Matteo shook his head in quiet misery as he stepped into the busy alley. He could have been one of those sorry bastards if he'd stuck around that oil-stained rock.
A high-pitched blast of a moped horn made Matteo jump backward, as the electric bike burst past him, the driver spewed profanities as he disappeared into the crowd.
Matteo cursed himself under his breath, "goddamn eye thing." He literally couldn't look away from it. He blinked twice quickly and the display faded from view. He let himself fall into the morning bustle as he made his way towards work.
Rillia popped her head out of the water and looked around hastily. The decaying earthy smell of the canal was something she was happy she didn't have to deal with all the time. There were hundreds of canals in Madrenice and this wasn't the right one. She dove back into the murky water cursing herself. She knew the city better than most anglers, yet she had allowed herself to get lost.
Eventually, Rillila found the right canal. She slowly raised her eyes above the surface as she glided smoothly under a small bridge that spanned the narrow canal. She felt along the edge for the rusty metal ladder steps that she knew were there. Hidden in the shadows, her gaze fell upon the building down the canal. Wedged in between two apartment buildings, the East Madrenice Military Recruitment Office had no intention of blending in. It's bright banners and garish propaganda hung from the thick awning that covered the service window. To Rillia it was an aesthetic eyesore that under any other context would disgust her. But she wasn't there to enlist. She was there to see him, Warm Eyes, the man who stood behind the counter.
Rilla's face lit up as a tall man in a bright white shirt rounded the corner. His dark brown hair fell into his eyes as he fumbled with the keys to the office door. He gave a casual glance down the street before disappearing into the shady confines of the office, the narrow door swinging shut behind him.
Moments later, the steel shutters of the kiosk window rolled up noisily, the sound of their clacking bouncing off the quiet cobblestone alley. Matteo peered out of the kiosk window and took a deep breath before ducking down out of view, coming up with stacks of recruitment pamphlets which he began to arrange on the counter.
Rillia looked on fondly from her shaded canalside perch. The dark-haired man looked too kind to be recruiting for the war. His eyes were umber and his smile sincere. She noticed the way he daydreamed, the manly facade he put on when men came to enlist, the way he pushed his hair away from his eyes.
Rillia bobbed listlessly against the canal, the lapping water echoed off the bridges underbelly softly. She was too caught up in her own thoughts to notice the low drone of an engine behind her.
The narrow canals of Madrenice make for tricky boat travel. Trickier still are the low arching bridges, some of which make for a tight squeeze for larger speedboats.
This bridge was no different as the beautifully painted vintage Ityian speedboat quietly made its way towards Rilla's bridge. The boat slowed as it prepared for the tight traversal. As is customary, the boat's captain let out two short horn bursts to announce his maneuver.
Rillia snapped back into the moment and she spun around to see the white hull of the Ityian boat loom over her, and with a stifled gasp, thrust herself down into the depths of the canal.
The noise made Matteo look up from his work, just in time to see a glimmer of light shine off the bright white hull of the passing boat. As he watched the boat silently slip out of sight, he noticed a figure under the bridge, arms resting on the edge of the canal, face turned towards the sky in exasperation. He recognized the familiar silhouette and smiled to himself.
Rillia swam from her room out into the open water. She raised her arms above her head, twirling in an upward arch, admiring the way the morning light shone off her shimmering pink markings.
She felt a nudge in her mind. A small, high-pitched voice in the back of her head. Rillia rolled her eyes preemptively as she turned her body around in the water to face Chiara, a much younger angler, wearing her usual feigned smile on her naive unblinking face. Regretfully, Rillia opened the telepathic link.
"Hey, Rillia! Goooooood Morning! Where are you going!"
Rillia looked to the surface in irritation. "I'm headed into the city for some errands, not that it concerns you, Chiara. Does your mom know where you are?"
Chiara's spunk fizzled as her gaze fell to the ocean floor. "I was looking for new seashells for my necklace," she said sheepishly. She perked back up, "Wait, you're going alone, to Madrenice? That's dangerous Rillia! You could get sucked up by a boat, or worse!"
Rillia shot a glance in the direction of the city, this little girl was really good at wasting her time.
"I need to go...I'll be fine as long as you keep your mouth shut about it. Good luck with the necklace." Rillia flicked her fin and shot off towards the city.
"I'll show it to you if you come back alive okay?" Chiara shouted in the distance.
Rillia took a deep breath and tried to enjoy her swim. It wasn't very far to the Eastern edge of Madrenice, the floating city lived in harmony with the ocean, making it extremely accessible for anglers like herself. Her mind soon filled with thoughts of Warm Eyes. What color shirt would he be wearing today?
Matteo groaned in tetchiness as he slipped on his white shirt. At age 27, his body felt three times as old. His time spent in the grimy steel factories of El Gris had left his muscles aching and sore, even to this day. He left that hellish island a year ago today, in search of work that wasn't so intent on killing him.
He was a working professional now, at least compared to his last job. He inspected the cuffs on his shirt before glancing in the dirty mirror of his bathroom, checking his teeth for any loose bits of breakfast.
He blinked and looked up at the ceiling. No new messages. Matteo stared intently at the wall as he navigated through his eyePhone, the small device that sat on top of his left cornea. He had gotten the little piece of technology with his first paycheck from the new job. It was a very strange thing to get used to.
Matteo locked his door to his small rented apartment while reading the mornings headlines that appeared before him.
"EL GRIS FACTORY FIRE KILLS 28."
Matteo shook his head in quiet misery as he stepped into the busy alley. He could have been one of those sorry bastards if he'd stuck around that oil-stained rock.
A high-pitched blast of a moped horn made Matteo jump backward, as the electric bike burst past him, the driver spewed profanities as he disappeared into the crowd.
Matteo cursed himself under his breath, "goddamn eye thing." He literally couldn't look away from it. He blinked twice quickly and the display faded from view. He let himself fall into the morning bustle as he made his way towards work.
Rillia popped her head out of the water and looked around hastily. The decaying earthy smell of the canal was something she was happy she didn't have to deal with all the time. There were hundreds of canals in Madrenice and this wasn't the right one. She dove back into the murky water cursing herself. She knew the city better than most anglers, yet she had allowed herself to get lost.
Eventually, Rillila found the right canal. She slowly raised her eyes above the surface as she glided smoothly under a small bridge that spanned the narrow canal. She felt along the edge for the rusty metal ladder steps that she knew were there. Hidden in the shadows, her gaze fell upon the building down the canal. Wedged in between two apartment buildings, the East Madrenice Military Recruitment Office had no intention of blending in. It's bright banners and garish propaganda hung from the thick awning that covered the service window. To Rillia it was an aesthetic eyesore that under any other context would disgust her. But she wasn't there to enlist. She was there to see him, Warm Eyes, the man who stood behind the counter.
Rilla's face lit up as a tall man in a bright white shirt rounded the corner. His dark brown hair fell into his eyes as he fumbled with the keys to the office door. He gave a casual glance down the street before disappearing into the shady confines of the office, the narrow door swinging shut behind him.
Moments later, the steel shutters of the kiosk window rolled up noisily, the sound of their clacking bouncing off the quiet cobblestone alley. Matteo peered out of the kiosk window and took a deep breath before ducking down out of view, coming up with stacks of recruitment pamphlets which he began to arrange on the counter.
Rillia looked on fondly from her shaded canalside perch. The dark-haired man looked too kind to be recruiting for the war. His eyes were umber and his smile sincere. She noticed the way he daydreamed, the manly facade he put on when men came to enlist, the way he pushed his hair away from his eyes.
Rillia bobbed listlessly against the canal, the lapping water echoed off the bridges underbelly softly. She was too caught up in her own thoughts to notice the low drone of an engine behind her.
The narrow canals of Madrenice make for tricky boat travel. Trickier still are the low arching bridges, some of which make for a tight squeeze for larger speedboats.
This bridge was no different as the beautifully painted vintage Ityian speedboat quietly made its way towards Rilla's bridge. The boat slowed as it prepared for the tight traversal. As is customary, the boat's captain let out two short horn bursts to announce his maneuver.
Rillia snapped back into the moment and she spun around to see the white hull of the Ityian boat loom over her, and with a stifled gasp, thrust herself down into the depths of the canal.
The noise made Matteo look up from his work, just in time to see a glimmer of light shine off the bright white hull of the passing boat. As he watched the boat silently slip out of sight, he noticed a figure under the bridge, arms resting on the edge of the canal, face turned towards the sky in exasperation. He recognized the familiar silhouette and smiled to himself.